I always make fun of my mother-in-law – who used to be a teacher – because she can't go anywhere without SOMEONE yelling out, "Hi Mr. KK's Mom!"
It's gets to be a little ridiculous.
This weekend, it was my turn.
Saturday morning I made my weekly pilgrimage to the grocery store. While standing in the deli line, I saw someone that I work with. We make some small talk, her 18 month old son ignored my hellos and silly questions (read: kids hate me) and she went on her merry way.
I then successfully avoided a friend's brother.
But then, as I turned my cart around, a girl about my age was standing in front of me, staring at me. "Hi," she said. "Do you remember me?"
I would say, that whenever anyone asks me that question, the answer will undoubtedly be 'no'. Because I don't remember anyone. Please don't take it personally.
HER: "It's me, Katie Marrone*."
And let me tell you, I haven't seen Katie Marrone since I was about 8 years old. And I'd be lying if I said that there was even the slightest recognition of her face on my part.
Katie, however, recognized me in an instant. Like, she went out of her way to say hello. It's been 20 years since we've seen each other. Please tell me I've changed even a little bit in the last two decades. Because there were some awkward phases I'd like to think I outgrew.
Katie started talking to me like we were just on the phone last week.
KATIE: "I have four kids, and my youngest daughter is making her Communion next weekend. Oh, and my second cousin? Dropped dead this week. Can you believe it? So we'll be spending the day over my Aunt's house today. And Kimmy? She's finally getting married this summer. She's the last one. My parents have 11 grandchildren! Crazy, right? How have you been?"
I wasn't exactly sure what to say to Katie. How about: 'Let's see, since I saw you last, I got my period, went through puberty, had an awkward short-hair phase that lasted 10 years, graduated 9th in my high school class, fell in love with Boston, got cancer, got rid of cancer, married Mr. KK, am doing really well in a job i really don't like, have novel inside of me that's dying to get out, I want a show on the Food Network and I treat my dog like he's human.'
ME: "Um. Fine?"
We said our good-byes and wouldn't you know it, I ran into her every time I turned a corner. There she was in the dairy section. I bumped into her in the bread aisle. Eventually, it was too stressful, so I took my 8-year-old-looking ass home.